


Ghosts

by Slut_4_Jagermeister



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, au where the R/E/L love triangle isn't problematic and we can just have a cute moment, conversation about fate, jonerys centered but you don't see dany, or don't think the show is right with them being in love i don't think you'll like this, preboatsex, rhaegar had PLANS y'all, show canon R & L, so if you don't like them, wedding songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slut_4_Jagermeister/pseuds/Slut_4_Jagermeister
Summary: Rhaegar and Lyanna talk about fate while their son and Daenerys sail north.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fun with something my buddy on reddit and I have talked about in the past. Finally got around to finishing the dang thing. Don't crucify me if the tags are wonky, it's me first time

Her son was prone to melancholy just like his father. Lyanna watched as Aegon,  _ always her Aegon, never Jon,  _ removed his gorget and thumbed the twin direwolves. He sighed as he drew his fingers over the metal, nervousness apparent in the way his breath shook. Lyanna Stark wished with all her might that she could sit next to him on the bed, that she could cup his cheek and encourage him. Her and Rhaegar had been watching quietly for some time now, gently rocking with the motion of his sister's ship. She knew Aegon well enough to guess that he didn’t feel worthy of his Dragon Queen, which Lyanna knew was folly. 

 

Her prince was seated on the far side of the room, plucking deft notes from his ornate dragon harp. “Our son thinks she's like to deny him.” Lyanna could hear the mirth in his voice from behind her. “Perhaps the wildling woman had the right of it; that he knows nothing. My sister is in love with him, and he her.” 

 

Lyanna grabbed the first thing she could, which happened to be her slipper, and flung it at her husband without aiming. She’d allow no one to talk ill of her babe, not even Rhaegar. “Don't be  _ stupid _ .” She chastised half heartedly. Rhaegar had anticipated her actions however, and easily dodged it with a chuckle and sly grin _.  _ He jerked his head towards their child and Lyanna turned to find him standing, shoulders straight and a steely resolve in his eyes. The music from the harp crescendoed.

 

“What are you playing, anyway?” She asked over her shoulder.

 

“I’m writing their wedding song.” He replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

 

“How can you be so sure they’ll wed?” She turned to face him again. He shrugged. 

 

“They were always meant for each other. Truly, have you not thought about it?” 

 

She hadn’t, really. Much and more had happened in her son’s life, leaving little time to think about  _ marriage prospects _ of all things. Lyanna could remember back to when he was a child weeping at the heart tree at Winterfell, wondering why he didn’t belong. To her brother allowing the realm’s rightful King to revoke all rights that were his by name, to when Aegon’s sworn brothers had shoved a dagger into his noble heart. 

 

The memory still made her wroth. Her son couldn’t hear her of course, when it happened, but somehow his wolf could. They both had howled throughout the entire night. Rhaegar had held her best as he could, until she spirited herself away to the crypts of Winterfell to await him. Aegon never came. That had broken her heart to absolute bits, until he drew breath again the next day. 

 

“Had we lived,” Her Prince started, “Elia and I had discussed betrothing Rhaenys and Aegon when they came of age, to cement her claim.” The music stopped.

 

“Viserys would have been a suitable consort for the Dornish Princess, as Doran had been clever enough try and arrange.” His smile was sad. 

 

“As for your family, the blood of Winterfell would be a Prince betrothed to my sister. The pact of Ice and Fire fulfilled at last.” Rhaegar looked to his son and studied him hard for a long moment, his face unreadable. 

 

“I intended to have Summerhall rebuilt for him and Daenerys. I hoped they could return it to its former glory and fill the corridors with children. I don’t think it’s too late for that, though.” Rhaegar stood and walked to her side to pick up her small hand. He placed a kiss to her knuckles before drawing her back to his chest, holding her tight from behind. She melted into him. 

 

Somewhere between the beginning and end of their conversation, Aegon had made up his mind. Their boy opened the door and walked out in the direction of his Dragon Queen’s room.  

 

“See?” Rhaegar’s breath tickled her ear. “It’s fate. Come, love, let’s give them some privacy. Tonight could be the night they make us our first grandchild.” 

 

Warmth flooded her chest at the thought. Lyanna decided she would like that. She would like it very much. 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: It was.


End file.
